


Gestures

by section_eight



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cultural Differences, Gen, Hurt Bilbo, Misunderstandings, apologetic dwarves, people need to learn to communicate, pre bilbo/thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/section_eight/pseuds/section_eight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case of cultural misunderstandings leads to hurt and confusion among the company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gestures

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and intend no offence to those affiliated with The Hobbit  
> I'm considering this to be in the same universe as my other story 'Touch', but it can be read on its own too. This one would be taking place before that one for those who've read it (In my head this one is right after they leave the Shire, but before Rivendell, and 'Touch' is after they leave Beorn's but before they reach Mirkwood. I would think that it would take a bloody long time for all that travel and that they stayed at Beorn's for a while as well).  
> I'm listing this as pre-Bagginshield because by the end we begin to see a shift in Thorin and Bilbo's relationship. Since this takes place before 'Touch' I think that the pair of them would have had a bit more of a build up to their relationship than just Hug at the Carrock and then undying love, you know?  
> Anyways, this is unbetaed and if anyone wants to tell me how it sucks, then please do! Just tell me how so I can get better!

Gestures

It didn't take very long for Bilbo to realize that the manners of dwarves were rough, nearly non-existent things. He had in fact reached this conclusion before even leaving his smial. Nevertheless, he had followed the strange and decidedly rude company on their quest.

It did not take him long to regret the decision.

The company were kind to him, if distant, and seemed to find him an odd sort of hindrance to keep. He must be just as strange to them, he reasoned, as they were to him. Unfortunately, this still left him with no idea how he might ‘break the ice’ as it were, and he was left with a distinct feeling of distance. Their leader meanwhile, seemed to have no compunctions about displaying his disdain for the burglar he had hired. This left Bilbo seeking out the company's wizard, grumpy though he may be, whenever he felt a need for conversation. Unfortunately, the wizard was often unavailable, either having gone on ahead of the company, or already being busy conversing with their leader. In the case of the former, Bilbo often went to the ponies with offerings of apples, hoping to ingratiate himself with them at least. In the later case, well...in these moments Bilbo often found himself beginning to pluck up the courage to enter the conversation anyways, or at least try to steal the wizard away for a bit, but Thorin always looked up when he drew too near, and that frown of his had Bilbo's courage retreating and shoulders slumping, and before Bilbo knew it, he was back by his pony, pretending that he wasn't lonely.

And that was really the bit that hurt. He had, despite his protests of an ideal life, been lonely, and part of why he had joined the company was to stave off that loneliness. Yet here he was, in a group of fourteen others and lonelier than ever. He took a moment to silently curse Gandalf, Thorin, the company, and that damnable song of theirs, making him dream of mountains and faraway places; filling him with a yearning for a home once lost that may yet be regained. For a moment he had felt something that must have been at least similar to what they felt, and he despaired for them. If something had happened to the Shire like that, he didn’t know what he would do. He had been moved near to tears by them and had the strange sensation of a swelling in his chest that made it hard for him to breathe and had him feeling too many things at once. To be feeling such despair, and yet hope and pain! And then the thought of travel to excite as well!

He paused in his petting of the ponies once he realized the direction of his thoughts. Somehow he had reminded himself why he had come and wanted to stay again, despite his unhappiness. Oh, curses upon himself as well then. Him and his too easily moved heart. He always knew it would lead to nothing good, despite his mother's frequent exclamations to the contrary.

\---

Ori looked up from his notebook. He was very proud of having been chosen as scribe for this mission -not that there were a lot of volunteers, but not many scribes got to say that they were commissioned by kings on great quests, so he was proud. He was going over what he had written previously as well as taking note of where everyone was for the evening as they set up camp when he realized that he was missing someone in his notes. He scanned the group, doing a quick head count and being sure not to miss even those on the outskirts of camp when he saw two bare feet in the middle of their mounts.

Ori felt a bit like a cad for having forgotten their burglar, a central figure to the endgame in the plot if nothing else. Every other, he noted, was conversing, or at least sitting, with another, usually family.

Which led the young dwarf to a startling realization. All of them had gone on this quest with family. All of them that is, except their burglar. With no family around the hobbit must surely be at least a little lonely. He tried to think of a time when Master Baggins had spoken with anyone other than Gandalf and came up with nothing. Well that decided it then. Ori snapped his notebook shut and stood, steeling himself for talking to their strange former host, and marching himself towards the ponies. A few of the company looked up when they saw the young dwarf pass, for they knew by now that when the lad was holed up with a book nothing short of an attack by orcs could get him to close it, and watched on with mild interest, particularly once they saw where he was headed.

Bilbo started when a quiet 'ahem' interrupted his contemplations. Looking up, he was surprised to see Ori standing before him, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

'Sorry to have startled you Master Baggins.' Ori awkwardly fumbled with the notebook in his hands.

'Oh, ah, no worries lad. No worries.' Bilbo shifted uncomfortably beside his pony, and searched for something to say. But what could be material for proper conversation between a hobbit and a dwarf? The pair of them stood in awkward silence for a moment, each so desperate to say the right thing they said nothing at all.

Finally, the silence became unbearable for Bilbo. 'Was there something I could help you with...? ‘He asked, unsure of why he was being approached.

'Oh, uh...yes!' Ori stared at his hands a moment. Fool of him! Here he was, walking over and starting a conversation and he hadn't thought of anything to say! He was just staring at his hands and his notebook like some halfwit! Wait...his notebook!

'Yes,' Ori said again, more confidently, 'I was hoping you could tell me some more about hobbits, and yourself.'

Bilbo looked startled at the declaration.

'For the narration, see.' He held up his notebook with a smile.

'Oh, well,’ Bilbo stammered a bit, blushing slightly, ‘I'm sure there isn't really much to tell...'

'Nonsense!' Ori was too pleased to have found a way to socialize with their burglar to let it go now. He began to lead Bilbo back towards the campfire and the rest of the company. 'I already have everyone else's story, and of course we know about dwarves, but we can't have a central character with no back story!'

Bilbo smiled at Ori's enthusiasm. 'Well, I'll tell you what there is to tell, but I wasn't lying when I said there wasn't much. Now, what would you like to know?'

And the pair sat by the fire, unaware of all the eavesdroppers on their conversation as Ori satisfied his curiosity about both hobbits in general and this particular hobbit's life before a band of dwarves fell through his door. That is, they were unaware until the rest of the company began to ask questions of their burglar as well. The pair were quite surprised when they looked up to find most of the company gathered around them instead of the fire. Ori smiled. Apparently it was easier than he had imagined for Bilbo to be accepted into the company. Not to mention that with the others asking questions as well, he was gathering plenty of information for his records.

'And it's only you in that hole?'

'It's called a smial Fili,’ the hobbit answered, ‘And yes, since my parents died.'

The blond dwarf winced at his misstep. 'I'm sorry.'

Bilbo smiled gently at him. 'It happened when I was a bit younger. I've had time to get over it. Don't worry yourself.'

'My parents are dead too.’ Ori offered quietly. ‘In battle.'

'Oh, I'm sorry lad,’ Bilbo said, placing a comforting hand on the dwarf’s arm. ‘At least you've your brothers though. That must be a comfort.'

And Ori suddenly realized just how alone he might have been, were he an only child like Bilbo. Their quiet moment didn’t last though, as another question was thrown at the hobbit.

'How'd your parents die?'

Ori could have thrown something at Kili for the insensitive question.

Sure enough, Bilbo's expression shuttered somewhat before he replied, 'the fell winter.’ There was incomprehension on all the faces around him and he took a breath before replying in a monotone voice that had a few of the dwarves trading concerned glances. ‘The Brandywine River froze straight over and we were beset by wolves. My father fell to them, making sure my mother and I could escape after we'd gone searching for food. My mother died the summer after,’ he gave a little sigh, ‘She loved him too much to be apart from him, you see.' And that, he supposed, hurt almost as much. He hadn’t needed her as much as he once had, that was true, but it saddened him that he wasn’t enough to keep her with him either.

‘It was noble,’ Bofur offered, and Bilbo shook himself out of his reverie to listen to him. ‘Your pa protectin’ you and your ma like that.’

Gloin offered his own nod of agreement to this, thinking of his own wife and son.

‘And,’ Bofur continued, ‘many a dwarf has been lost pinin’ for their One.’ They exchanged sad smiles.

'Sorry.' Kili’s soft voice interrupted as he looked down.

Bilbo turned his smile to the contrite dwarf. 'It happened long enough ago. I have their memories in my halls.'

'Your little burrow?' Someone asked.

'It's a smial,’ Bilbo corrected for what felt like the hundredth time, at least burrow was an improvement on hole...he supposed. ‘And it would be hard not to think of them there. My father built that home as an engagement present to my mother.'

The dwarves looked sufficiently impressed by this.

'Not bad for woodwork,' Dwalin commented with a nod of approval.

'Nothing wrong with woodwork,' said Bofur as he sat down on Bilbo's other side, 'specially not when stone's not available.'

Dwalin looked a touch chastened. 'No offence meant.'

'None taken,’ Bilbo replied good naturedly, ‘Hobbits are of earth, not stone.'

And the conversation turned to other things, like the merits of stonework, and Bilbo found himself happy to be a part of it, even if it was only to listen, and he could contribute here and there with what he had heard of the men in Bree.

Bilbo was therefore unprepared for the slap to the back that nearly sent him to his knees, and stared in bewilderment and hurt at Bofur's retreating back.

\---

The next day Bilbo was happily surprised that last nights inclusion seemed to have overflowed into today and continued conversing with Ori, and Dori as well now, about the merits of herbal tea over black. He still had a small ache in his back, but it was easy enough to forget it amongst all the other aches of riding.

Soon enough he had a nice, easy rhythm going to the conversation and several others of their company had ridden closer to hear and participate. The conversation flowed on to other things and Bilbo found himself smiling widely in the middle of the group. What a change of fortune from yesterday's musings! He threw Ori a grateful smile and knew he would have to say something to the young dwarf in thanks later. He was well aware that this change in his status among the dwarves was due to Ori's attempt to get to know him. Perhaps dwarves didn't have as easy a way with strangers as he had first thought and they had needed an icebreaker as well. Yes, he would need to thank Ori later.

When the party began to separate to take care of setting up camp for the night Bilbo took the moment to find Ori and relay his thanks privately. Unless he was severely lacking in his judgement skills, then a public display of sentimentality would only lower both of their standings before the company. The last thing he wanted was to cause embarrassment to Ori with his soppiness.

The dwarf smiled shyly at Bilbo's thanks when the hobbit approached him and then, to Bilbo's shock, punched him on the arm with such force as to nearly cause him to cry out before heading back to his brothers. Bilbo was left cradling his arm and fighting tears. Perhaps he had misjudged how even this dwarf would receive his sentimentality. Was it weakness to them? He had heard men speak of it as such before... Cursing his heart again, he hoped his friend would remain as such and not spread about what he had done.

\---

Thorin observed his men for the next few weeks, as well as their acceptance of their burglar, and, as he paid closer attention, he saw their hurt and confusion at his treatment of them.

During the day as they travelled, Bilbo seemed more than happy to converse and share stories with the others. He revealed pieces of his past that surely were meant to be kept solely for friends, unless hobbits were much more open with their pasts and feelings than dwarves were. Even so, the halfling seemed hesitant to speak of himself at first, and then he heard the hobbit speaking with such emotion that he knew the hobbit found the sharing special. He must, for he saw the halflings eyes suspiciously bright on these occasions and he knew that whatever had been said, the emotions clearly ran deep for the hobbit, and the sharing did not come easy either.

When night fell and it came time to make a camp, there was a change in the hobbit. He stayed apart from the group in a way that he didn't when they rode and ducked away from any confirmations of friendship and familiarity. He could see his men caught off guard by this, and hurt as well, yet they still were moved to make their attempts.

As each of these attempts were never returned, and only rarely accepted, Thorin felt his ire for the halfling grow. Who was this small creature to rebuff his men so? They offered no insult to him. They offered themselves in friendship! Yet here was this halfling who apparently found himself above such things. Did he think himself too good, too proper for dwarven friends? Or was it that their current state of homelessness repelled him? Had he taken into his company one who did not believe that they were of equal standing? But then why had the creature even come? Thorin vowed that if it was out of some form of pity he'd hurl the halfling from the top of his reclaimed kingdom. Let the halfling try and pity him then!

Thoroughly worked up into a fit of temper that had sent braver creatures than hobbits into hiding, Thorin stalked around the camp, spitting orders and glaring at the hobbit for his slights against the company.

\---

Ori sat near Bilbo that evening, saddened by Bilbo's flinching away from the nearness, but giving him a hearty thump on the back nevertheless. Bilbo's eyes went wide, as per usual, but nothing was said. Ori sighed sadly. He had thought at first that perhaps hobbits found something improper in publicly displaying affection for friends and family, yet when he'd tried to ask, he'd been regaled with stories of his father’s attempts at courting his mother, and of Bilbo rolling down hills and playing with his cousins, laughing and chasing each other. So apparently there was something to their interactions that left Bilbo feeling a need for distance.

When Bofur approached from the other side Bilbo looked almost panicked and stood abruptly to leave. He wasn't quite fast enough to dodge the hand that shot out though, and nearly ran away after the impact, missing Bofurs fallen expression.

The pair took a moment to share a grimace. They honestly thought themselves friends with Bilbo, and at times it certainly seemed that Bilbo felt the same, but then there were moments like these, moments that left the dwarves wondering at their standing with the hobbit. It was strange, for the hobbit was so determinedly amiable during the day. He even regularly asked after Gloin's little boy. Asked! Granted, the stories were new to him, but he'd let the dwarf ramble on for hours, and was quite content to listen. And the day after that, he'd asked to be told more! It had certainly won him points with the obsessively proud father, but then the lad had paled and staggered away after a friendly pat on the back, and didn't even pretend to so much as consider returning it.

Despite himself, Bofur began to wonder if the little hobbit thought they were below him in some way. He'd seen the dear little home the lad had come from, and it was a mighty comfortable one. And from the shared tales, he'd learnt that his friend was a gentlehobbit too. No need to work, that one. He owned a good portion of that hill he lived in and was grandson to the Thain, which was apparently some sort of hobbit leader. He was from not one, but two houses of standing. Bofur was a miner who helped his family in the never ending struggle to put food on the table. And he was feeling more and more like it.

He looked back at the hobbit when he saw Ori glance around him with a slight furrow to his brow. Bilbo seemed like he was going to head for the ponies, which, despite his allergies, seemed to have become a favourite spot of his, particularly after the quick walks through the surrounding forest he had taken to just after mealtime, yet instead he was paused a few feet away from him, head tilted like he was listening to something, face pale.

Thorin, who had been scowling around camp all night, also took notice of the hobbits disquiet.

Suddenly a howl was heard, mournful and loud through the clearing they had settled in.

'Just wolves,' Thorin said.

Bofur let out a sigh. Thank Mahal. He didn't want to even think of wargs crossing their path.

Bilbo though, was far from comforted. 'Wolves, did you say?' His voice was shaky, and his face decidedly pale. 'Perhaps we ought to move on then?'

Thorin looked coldly down his nose at the hobbit. And to think the wizard had said this cowardly creature would be useful!

'Move on?’ Their leader asked, ‘For wolves? What a weak and pathetic creature you must be, ‘he sneered at the hobbit. ‘If you can't stomach the thought of wolves, tell me, just how do you plan to face a dragon?'

Bilbo stilled entirely, face a strange mixture of emotion that was impossible to decipher and Bofur shot Thorin a glare. He remembered the tale from not so long ago of how the hobbit had lost his father. Sympathetically, Bofur reached out and warmly grasped the hobbit's arm with a squeeze of sympathy. But Bilbo pulled away with an expression of pain and ran into the forest, disappearing from view.

Bofur turned on Thorin immediately. 'How could ye say tha' to 'im?!' He questioned angrily.

Thorin levelled a glare at the miner. 'Why defend him? He is no friend of yours.'

Bofur was silent, and all the camp watched him as the touchy subject was finally spoken of openly, if callously. Bofur levelled Thorin with a look that told him exactly how low the heir of Durin's rank was in his eyes. 'Maybe he isn' my friend, but I'm his.' Bofur hefted his mattock and set up his bedding next to Bilbo's before turning back to their leader, 'and it may interes' ye to know that the lads da' was killed by wolves. Just so ye know.' And with that, he lay on his blanket and pulled his hat over his eyes, clearly done with the conversation.

Thorin, though still of the belief that the hobbit didn't deserve such a show of devotion, felt like something of a cad for speaking as he had to their burglar. The glares he was receiving also made it clear that he ought to make amends with the creature, and quickly too, if he wanted to remain in good standing with his company.

Grumbling to himself, he went off to find the blasted hobbit, only to be pulled back by Balin, who shook his head at him sagely, 'Tomorrow lad, the hurt is still too fresh.'

And so redirected, Thorin instead turned in for the night.

\---

The following morning saw a return to their routines, with Bilbo pretending that the previous night had never happened with a steadfastness that surprised the company. Any attempt to speak of the evening before was met by brilliant smiles and a swift change of topic. As a result, the hobbit was also made subject to various thumps and punches as the dwarves strove to show their understanding and sympathy.

Strangely, this resulted in the hobbit's smile becoming strained and his actions to become more anti-social than usual, acting as he did in the evenings, when he avoided all who would be friends with him. It was odd to see, for their little burglar continued to wear a wide smile, and he spoke joyously on all subjects, save those that were on everyone's minds, yet he gave them all a wide berth, and held himself uncomfortably.

Finally, the call was given to pause for lunch, and Bilbo made his way to Oin, asking quietly for a bruise salve. Eyeing the hobbit with a medic's eye he grumbled that anyone should leave home without such, yet handed over a little jar, assuming that the hobbit had found the saddle too uncomfortable to bear. It was a common enough ailment to those unused to travel. He returned to his brother’s side as the hobbit went for another walk in the woods, unaware that Bilbo had thought to bring along a bruise balm, but had simply run out.

Balin raised his brows in Thorin's direction as the hobbit passed them and the dwarf knew that he would never hear the end of it from his old friend if he didn't follow the hobbit into the woods and make amends this very instant. With a huff he went in the same general direction into which he saw the halfling disappear.

After but a few moments of walking, he heard a faint whimpering noise, and went to investigate. Had he really hurt the halflings feelings so badly? Sighing deeply, Thorin plunged forwards to deal with the situation and was then forced to stop suddenly from shock. The hobbit's shirt and vest were removed and the hobbit was whimpering as he applied bruise balm to his arms, and then had to bend them awkwardly to reach his back, both of which were painted in shades of black, purple, and a deep, angry red.

Angry that one of his company would so abuse another, Thorin started forwards, calling out to Bilbo, 'Who has done this?'

Bilbo started violently and turned to Thorin while hastily putting his shirt back on and gathering up his vest. His eyes were wide as saucers when he looked at Thorin with bewilderment.

'Who, hobbit? Who has harmed you so?' But Thorin was met with only more looks of confusion as the hobbit opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish.

Thorin quickly lost his patience and took hold of the hobbit, softening his grip in light of the injuries the arms bore and hauled him back towards the camp.

'No,' Bilbo began to protest immediately, 'I'm fine! It's nothing!'

'This is hardly 'nothing', ' Thorin growled, and it was on these words that the pair returned to the rest of the company, who were understandably startled at the manner in which the pair had returned.

'Now,' Thorin began, addressing the company as a whole, 'who is guilty of this?' And he gestured to the now released Bilbo, who was currently trying and failing to hide the bruising that Thorin had exposed.

The company stood too stunned to speak. They all enjoyed their little burglar's company, and while yes, they were hurt that he refused their friendship, none of them actually wished him harm! Yet here stood the evidence that yes, someone had been hurting their hobbit.

They moved as one to gather around the pair, leaving a small circle of space between them when Thorin held up a hand to stop them, which was when they noticed the way Bilbo had moved a bit behind Thorin at their approach. He was scared of them?

They all glared at each other, trying to figure out who the guilty party could be when Bofur broke off from the group and approached the hobbit, very slow and quiet, as though he were about to try and catch a frightened doe, and asked Bilbo directly, 'Who's been hurtin' ye, lad?'

Bilbo looked back at him for an instant in silence, confusion and hurt plain on his face when he answered, to the dismay of the company, 'But, it's been you.'

Bofur reared back as though struck. 'What are ye talkin' abou' laddie,' his voice was hoarse as he spoke.

‘All of you were...’ Bilbo’s voice drifted off to nothing as he looked down at his feet, hands nervously wringing together.

Bofur placed his hands carefully on the hobbit’s shoulders, noting the mild flinch. 'We've never touched...' And then it dawned on him with a sick sense of horror. 'Oh laddie, why didn' ye say?' he whispered.

Bilbo ducked his head and mumbled too quietly to hear.

'Why didn't the lad say what?' Oin called from where he was retrieving more bruise salve. Some of the company nodded along with the question.

Bofur couldn't pull his eyes from his friend, and didn't see how pale Thorin had grown as he realized just what had been happening in his company.

Bofur answered the company sadly, 'It was us who was hurtin' him.'

'No it wasn't' and variations thereof were immediately called from the company as Oin pushed Bofur out of his way so that he could apply more of the salve himself. Bilbo, now resigned to his fate, simply allowed the healer to manipulate his limbs, pretending he couldn’t hear the grumbling noises the company made as more bruising was revealed.

'It was,' Bofur whispered. And Ori who was next to understand, quoted Bilbo from that night this all started, 'Dwarves are made of stone and hobbits of the earth.'

This did little to enlighten the company. 'What?'

Bofur decided to just say it straight, though it pained him. 'Every time we patted him on the back, or punched his arm, or, or anything! We were hurting him.’ He turned back to Bilbo with a grimace. ‘Oh lad, why didn' ye say?'

Bilbo's eyes were trained on the ground, and he was fumbling with his sleeve now that Oin had finished tending to him, 'I was already pathetic and weak. I didn't want to make it worse.'

Thorin closed his eyes and put his head in his hand, turning away from the scene.

'No laddie!’ Bofur exclaimed, turning the hobbit, trying to get him to face him properly, and carefully minding his grip. ‘Ye just aren't made like us! That's all!'

'I thought, perhaps it was...' Bilbo blushed and looked away, ashamed.

'What is it?' Ori was by them now too, protectively hunched around the hobbit’s other side.

'Perhaps it was punishment,’ came the quiet answer.

'What?!' The company was thoroughly taken aback at this new revelation.

'Well,’ Bilbo began, ‘whenever I had annoyed Thorin, someone would come up and hit me or squeeze my arm so tightly, so I thought...'

'No laddie, no!' Bofur was as gentle as he could manage when he hugged the hobbit to his chest.

Ori laid a careful hand on their burglars back as well. 'We would never!'

'This was all just,' Balin sighed sadly, 'just a terrible misunderstanding.'

Bilbo turned questioning eyes onto the old dwarf as he pulled away from his friends and put his vest on. The familiar clothing helping him feel secure.

'Dwarves are sturdy and strong, ‘Balin began, ‘it is said our father, Mahal, carved the first of us straight from the stone, and that we carry it's strength. We are sturdy, and can endure more than most other races. So for us, showing affection is usually done by hitting each other in some fashion. It reaffirms strength you see- like the strength of the bond shared.'

Bilbo’s eyes were wide. He had never heard of such a thing in all his life! 'So whenever one of you hit me...'

'We were trying to say that we considered ye a friend lad,’ Bofur said with a small smile.

'Oh.’ Bilbo looked down at his feet for a moment and his brow was furrowed when he looked up again. ‘But then, why did you look sad when you did it?'

'Such gestures are meant to be shared.' Balin explained.

'You mean, I was supposed to return the...gesture?'

'Aye.'

'Oh. I'm sorry.’ There was worry plain on the hobbit’s face. ‘I didn't mean to offend-'

'No laddie, don't apologize for this!’ Bofur interrupted, ‘But please know we never meant ye any harm.'

'I think I understand now. Thank you.'

The company began to disperse a bit, so as to give Bilbo more room and to take in the new information, as they took it in themselves. It was good to know that their little burglar had never meant to refuse their friendship, but at the same time, distressing to have realized that they had been causing him such harm. No wonder he had avoided their touches! At least now the situation could be remedied. And the company began their preparations for a midday meal.

Ori meanwhile, had stayed by Bilbo, feeling very much at fault for this. All of his questions about hobbits and he’d never offered information about dwarves. Of all the stupid oversights. 'I'm sorry. I never realized, ' he broke off to sigh and wring his hands, 'I thought, since you were so similarly sized, you would have similar strength to us. It didn't even occur to me that maybe...maybe things were different.'

Bilbo reached out and grasped the dwarf’s hands, 'it was a mistake we both made.'

And as Bilbo returned to the camp proper with his friend, Thorin watched the halfling with new eyes, and a churning pit of guilt in his stomach.

\---

That evening the company was startled when Bilbo, who had been in a contemplative silence they dared not disturb for the past few hours, approached them after dinner during the time usually reserved for his walk (which they now realized was actually the time he used to take stock of his new injuries and then tend to them) and began punching members of the company with a sheepish grin on his face, and while for some it was a stark reminder of how much weaker he was than they if this was what his punches felt like, it brought them all a sense of warmth that the hobbit still wanted to be their friend, and likely had all along.

Thorin approached the hobbit after all of this was over and the company had finished laughing at Bilbo's chasing down Fili and Kili to pummel them with such soft punches the pair had decided to act as though each were like a death blow. The laughter came again when Bilbo had to stand on a tree stump to be able to punch Dwalin properly. The conversation soon turned, and the company felt more at ease than it had ever before on their journey, a sadness lifted from their shoulders.

Drawing Bilbo away, Thorin decided that now was the time he should make amends. Amends for two things, he thought, realizing that in all the commotion he had never gotten to make his first apology.

'Bilbo,' Thorin took a breath and steeled himself, he was not a dwarf who often had to admit he was wrong, but swallow his pride he would when the situation called for it, and unfortunately, it called for it. 'Bilbo, I apologize.'

Bilbo looked up at the dwarf. The moon had risen, and cast a stillness over the forest's edge, where the firelight did not reach. The solemnity suited the moment, Bilbo thought, but he would have rather he and Thorin were smiling with the others by the fire.

'I accept.'

Thorin paused. He was about to continue on into a speech he had been composing in his head for some hours now and was startled at having been robbed of the chance to say it.

'Ah, perhaps I should explain.'

'If it makes you feel better.'

'It would.'

Bilbo gestured for him to continue.

'I apologize for failing to notice that you were being harmed, however unintentionally. If I had noticed what was happening and asked after the situation this might have all been resolved some time ago, without injury to yourself. And I, ‘Thorin took a breath, ‘I spoke to you with unnecessary harshness earlier. And I would apologize also for whatever hurt those words caused you. It was unjust of me, for you have done nothing to deserve them. And while you are neither a warrior, nor a dwarf, you are both a member and a necessary part of this company.'

'Thank you Thorin.' And Bilbo leaned forwards with a little smile, and punched Thorin’s shoulder before heading back to camp.

Thorin smiled lightly. Apology accepted then.

As the dwarf walked back to camp he was content to watch the company interact with an ease that was definitely not there before, though he was decidedly more solemn than they. Hobbits were much weaker than dwarves it seemed, and most definitely more fragile. And despite feeling that the weight of one burden had lifted, he felt another settle in its place.


End file.
